


Bareknuckle

by within_a_dream



Category: Original Work
Genre: Boxing & Fisticuffs, F/F, First Kiss, Getting Together, Historical, Victorian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:55:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26933230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/within_a_dream/pseuds/within_a_dream
Summary: Ruth Thomas, undefeated bareknuckle boxing champion, has an admirer
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Victorian Bareknuckle Fighter/Victorian Lady Who Frequents Her Fights
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14
Collections: Canon Ball 2020





	Bareknuckle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HostisHumaniGeneris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HostisHumaniGeneris/gifts).



Ruth let the sounds of the sounds of the crowd wash over her. Her opponent’s reputation preceded her – Mad Maud Sherman, who would go to any lengths to win. Ruth didn’t intend to lose.

Her gentlewoman hadn’t arrived yet. It was foolish to let herself be distracted, but Ruth couldn’t help but wonder where she was. Ruth had first noticed the woman nearly a month ago. Even besides her sex, she stood out – she was far too well-dressed for the typical crowd who gathered around the ring, her fine silk dress dragging in the dirt. Her hair was impeccably styled, her hands were clasped tightly in front of her, and she looked incredibly nervous. Ruth had paid her no mind until she looked up at the crowd after downing her opponent, and saw the gentlewoman grinning, eyes locked straight onto Ruth.

She hadn’t missed a single of Ruth’s bouts after that. Ruth watched the crowd despite herself, mentally cataloging her gentlewoman’s joy. She knew what the toffs wanted from these fights, and if the gentlewoman looked heartbroken when Ruth went down and joyous enough to rival Ruth when she won, it was only because her fine clothes and plump face softened her expressions. Deep down, she was surely as bloodthirsty as the rest of them.

Her gentlewoman wasn’t in the audience when Maud arrived, and Ruth’s head wasn’t in the ring. The crowd roared, and Ruth shook her head, trying to shake some sense into herself. She sunk into her stance, the movements automatic. Ruth was ready, and she _would_ win.

Maud started swinging as soon as she was within an arm’s length of Ruth. Ruth had watched her fight against Bessie Blakely yesterday, knew what to expect. She ducked under Maud’s first blow and put up her arm to block the second, forcing her back. When Maud stumbled, Ruth struck. Her fist collided with Maud’s jaw, sending her reeling. The crowd roared – and one voice stood out from the rest. Her gentlewoman shouted out her name, voice bursting with joy.

Ruth turned to look. Maud slugged her in the nose.

Ruth tripped back, nearly falling to the ground. She could feel blood dripping from her nose, and worse than the pain of the blow was the knowledge that she’d done this to herself. Head in the ring, eyes on her opponent. Nothing else mattered, _especially_ not some rich society girl who wore more dresses in a week than Ruth had owned in her life. She would win this fight, and she would put her gentlewoman out of her mind.

It was a close match, closer than Ruth would have liked. Her head was still ringing from the blow to the face when she took Maud down, a beautiful blow to the chest that sent Maud reeling to the ground. She stayed down, gasping for air, for the count, and Ruth raised her arms to the crowd, grinning. The blood from her nose had dried, but she could still taste it on her teeth.

Her gentlewoman was no longer there. That shouldn’t have made Ruth’s heart sink the way it did. She waved once more at the crowd, collected her winnings, and snuck out the back door as the next bout began.

Or attempted to, at least, for she stumbled over a woman who was loitering in the doorway. Ruth was mumbling something in between an apology and a rebuke when she recognized the loiterer. Her gentlewoman, in the flesh. Ruth stepped back, suddenly tongue-tied.

“You’re Ruth Thomas,” the woman said, breathless.

In her fighting clothes and with her nose bloodied, it would be hard to mistake Ruth for anyone else. “Were you at the fight?” Why had she asked that? She knew full well where the woman had been, down to her exact position in the crowd.

The woman nodded, eyes wide. “I’ve been to every one of your fights. You were so wonderful today.” She trailed off into a hesitant silence, looking down at her feet.

Ruth raised an eyebrow. “Did you want something?”

The woman bit her lip. Then, all in a rush, she said, “Will you teach me to fight?”

Oh, Lord above. Ruth glanced around the alley – there were already onlookers gathering and the woman would draw a very dangerous sort of crowd in her fine dress. “Will you accompany me back to my rooms?”

The woman nodded. “Shall I call a hansom?”

Ruth couldn’t keep from laughing. “It’s well within walking distance.”

She’d bought her way out of her bed in a shared room and into a luxurious room of her own at a boardinghouse near the ring. Her guest would surely find it small and plain, but the walls were sturdy, the fireplace kept it warm, it was free of fleas and cockroaches, and most importantly, it was hers and hers alone.

The woman goggled at the streets they walked along, clearly entranced and anxious in equal measure. Ruth resisted the urge to sarcastically narrate their journey – no need to humiliate the poor girl. She’d grow used to the city soon enough, or more likely she’d think better of her plan and get right back into a hansom to her fine manor.

“Here we are.” Ruth led the woman inside, waving to her landlady. Mrs. Davies always waited up in the parlor for Ruth on fight days, and not just to lock up after her. She clicked her tongue when she saw Ruth’s bloodied nose.

“You must be more careful, dear,” she sad, mothering Ruth as she always did. Ruth had long ago stopped trying to convince Mrs. Davies that injuries were an inevitable part of her job.

“I shall, ma'am.”

Mrs. Davies greeted the woman, who gave her a nervous wave. Before they could move to the introduction stage, Ruth tugged the woman towards the staircase. Mrs. Davies would keep them talking all night if they let her get started.

When they reached Ruth’s room, the woman’s expression was more like awe than the judgment Ruth had feared.

“It’s lovely,” she said, eyes once again wide.

“I’m sure it’s not much by your standards,” Ruth said, suddenly overcome by self-consciousness.

“But it’s _yours_ ,” the woman replied, and Ruth’s heart leapt in kinship.

“Now,” Ruth said, gesturing for the woman to take a seat at her vanity, “I think you owe me an introduction? You know me, but I’ve never met you.”

“Oh!” The woman laughed nervously. “I’m Ellen.” She didn’t offer a last name, and Ruth didn’t ask. “I so love your fights, and while I’ve been watching you I got to thinking, wouldn’t it be wonderful if I could do that? You’re so strong, and everyone knows you. I’m not sure I’d want _that_ , but knowing that I could do that, that I could move like you...” She was absolutely enchanted, Ruth realized. “I’m not sure if I’ll be a competent teacher, but I’m certainly willing to try. You’ll need new clothes, though. Something you can move in. New clothes, or a set of undergarments you don’t mind dirtying.”

A blush crept up Ellen’s face. “I can manage that.”

“I’ll give you the address of my gymnasium. We can set up a date. I’ll warn you, it will have to work around my schedule.”

“Of course.” Ellen nodded emphatically.

“And you’re welcome to stay longer, but I do have to clean myself up.”

Ellen’s blush grew even deeper, and Ruth couldn’t help but notice how lovely she was with red cheeks. “Could I help with that?”

Ah, so she hadn’t come just to ask for lessons. Ruth smiled. “Could you fetch the basin?”

Ellen dampened a rag and sat next to Ruth on the bed, dabbing at the blood streaked across Ruth’s face with a care that made Ruth ache. When she’d rid Ruth’s face of the mess of the fight, she leaned close, lips parting ever so slightly. Ruth closed the distance between them and kissed her.

Ellen was stock still to begin with. Was Ruth the first to kiss her? That sent a thrill through Ruth in a way that it possibly shouldn’t. But where Ruth led the kiss, Ellen followed, mirroring her lips’ movements, unpracticed but confident.

When they pulled apart, Ellen traced a finger across her own lips. “You taste of blood.”

“I was looking at you,” Ruth confessed. “When Sherman hit me. You were so beautiful.”

“Oh!” Ellen’s face became, unbelievably, even more red. “I must apologize for the distraction.”

“It was well worth the pain.” Ruth took Ellen’s hand in hers.

“Would your landlady mind if I spent the night?” Ellen asked, voice quiet.

“She’ll be glad I’ve found a friend.”

“I’ve made sure I won’t be missed at home.” Ellen smiled, the same joy on her face now as when she’d watched Ruth fight. “And would _you_ mind?”

Ruth leaned in closer. “I’d like nothing more.” Her bed was snug, but well able to fit two if the second didn’t mind keeping close. Somehow, Ruth doubted that would be a problem for Ellen.


End file.
